


After the Rain

by chaineddove



Category: Final Fantasy X & Final Fantasy X-2
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-06
Updated: 2008-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-01 02:45:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/351080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaineddove/pseuds/chaineddove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I had this image of the way a really huge storm will shift waves of sand and the way certain arid areas explode in flowers for a very short while after a rare rainstorm.  The prompts were "the dark rain," "breathe," and "amaranth," and they are kind of... very vaguely represented here?  I had this whole epic thought about the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amaranth#Myth.2C_legend_and_poetry">fable of the amaranth and the rose</a> which prompted the characterization of Yuna's mother and THE THOUGHT IS ALL THAT MADE IT IN, YES I REALLY AM THAT LAME, SO SUE ME.  Pretend the flower tucked behind her ear is an amaranth, I DON'T KNOW.  It does grow in very dry climates?</p>
    </blockquote>





	After the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I had this image of the way a really huge storm will shift waves of sand and the way certain arid areas explode in flowers for a very short while after a rare rainstorm. The prompts were "the dark rain," "breathe," and "amaranth," and they are kind of... very vaguely represented here? I had this whole epic thought about the [fable of the amaranth and the rose](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amaranth#Myth.2C_legend_and_poetry) which prompted the characterization of Yuna's mother and THE THOUGHT IS ALL THAT MADE IT IN, YES I REALLY AM THAT LAME, SO SUE ME. Pretend the flower tucked behind her ear is an amaranth, I DON'T KNOW. It does grow in very dry climates?

In his memory, it has rained three times on Bikanel.

***

They are not superstitious as a people, but the harsh and arid land they have adopted of necessity starves for rain; any baby born during a rainstorm is considered to be lucky. The night his sister is born, it rains.

They are still nomads, a nation in exile, and the first rain of his five short years pounds on the canvas of his aunt’s tent. He huddles with his cousins and hopes that the darkness and the unfamiliar water will not wash him away. On the wind there is a keening which sounds eerily like his mother’s voice and through the gap in the tent flaps he cannot see the stars. It is the most profound darkness he has ever seen and the longest night he has ever known; he slips in and out of consciousness as the storm rages around them and finally wakes to thunderous silence and dawn.

Outside, the dunes have been bent into unfamiliar shapes and are blooming in riotous color. He stands and gapes and wonders if he has been transported to another world in his sleep. He breathes in lungfuls of freshly scented air, marveling at the lack of dust. His father has to come and drag him away.

In the cool shadow of their tent, he has to blink the brightness from his eyes before he can focus them on his mother. She looks exhausted and happy. “Cid, come and meet your sister.”

The baby is small and wrinkled and red, but her eyes are wide and beautiful, and she clutches his finger possessively in her chubby hand. Despite all his earlier assertions of never wanting a sibling, he smiles.

***

His sister possesses a quiet, understated beauty which is not immediately evident until she smiles. Her features and her manner are soft, and she is well-liked by everyone but rarely pursued, for which he is absurdly grateful. Their parents lose their lives in a sandstorm and they are left with nothing but each other; he eventually submits to pressure from his aunt and marries early - a curvy, sunny blonde girl whose beauty is like an explosion. But when his sister smiles, he secretly thinks that in her quiet way, she is lovelier.

He has strong hands and big ideas and is going places, so he takes her into the world with him, relishing her smiles and the quiet gasps she makes, covering her mouth with a small hand, when something has particularly pleased her. She befriends street cats and makes winding chains of flowers to adorn her head and his neck. She sings under her breath and even the people who are wary of what they are seem unable to hate her when exposed to her sweetness for any extended period of time.

She meets _him_ in Luca, a strange man with a kind face and an easy manner, and she is very quiet after; Cid takes her away to Bikanel but the damage has already been done. The skies darken as they approach Home, more than half built now, and rain is already falling in heavy drops when they duck inside. His heavily pregnant wife greets them with her cheerful exuberance and drags him away; his sister disappears down the hall, her eyes downcast. The rain pounds through the night and despite the warmth of his wife’s arms, he cannot seem to find a restful sleep.

He finds her the next morning gathering flowers and herbs on an unfamiliar stretch of dune; once more their world has shifted around them while they slept and the storm raged. Her face is lit with childlike wonder and there is a colorful sprig of greenery tucked behind her ear. She is fresh as a flower herself as she looks up at him and tells him what he already knows: “I think I’m in love.”

***

His sister dies and he doesn’t know for weeks, not until the missive from her husband arrives, abrupt and heavy with grief. The night he learns of her death, it storms over Bikanel, and he stands outside despite his wife’s protests, letting the rain pound him and trying to cry to relieve the tightness in his chest. Under his breath, he hums the hymn, mourning the loss of the most precious thing he has ever had, knowing that the next morning, the dunes will be rearranged and blanketed in flowers, and his life will change again. 


End file.
